


We've So Much Silence

by hollybennett123



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Bubble Bath and Chill, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Relaxation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 23:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8597173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: “You brought beer up to the bathroom to drink in your fancy-ass bubble bath,” Sam muses, less of a question and more of a begrudgingly impressed statement. He’s got to hand it to the guy, he’s got this relaxation thing down.“Why the fuck not?” Bucky says with a self-satisfied smile, the rim of the bottle snagging against his bottom lip before he takes a long pull from it. Sam’s not even going to pretend he’s not looking at his mouth, the way his throat works when he swallows.





	

“So,” Sam says upon finally discovering where Bucky’s gotten to. “You’re into the whole bubble bath thing, huh?”

Bucky doesn’t seem put out by the interruption, smiling over at Sam from where he’s sitting on the edge of the tub while it fills. Sam takes it as an invitation to step inside, leans up against the sink with his arms folded while he takes it all in.

Honestly, Bucky’s got the whole bathroom looking cozy in a way Sam’s never really seen before. There’s a couple candles burning by the window to save switching on the overhead lights, some kind of fruity-smelling foam filling the tub in fluffy clouds; it’s nice. Sam’s all kinds of relaxed just standing here.

Bucky doesn’t say anything right away, just idly trails the fingers of his right hand through the water streaming from the faucet and watches it flow over his open palm. He’s not wearing his prosthetic arm, presumably having taken it off to avoid an excess of water, or just to take a break from the weight of it, or both. His hair is loose, curling a little at the ends in the damp air and he looks -- _softer_ like this somehow, barefoot in only a tank top and a pair of fraying sweats Sam’s pretty sure were Steve’s at some point or another.

If he notices Sam’s appreciative staring, he doesn’t comment on it.

“You’re damn right I’m into it,” Bucky says when he finally turns his attention back to Sam, his eyebrows drawn together all serious even if the twist of his mouth suggests he’s trying not to laugh. “Man, do you know what I would’ve done for something like this before the war? _During_ the war? The future is fucking awesome, pal. You don’t even know how lucky you got it.”

It’s a valid point, sure, but it’s a lot more entertaining to keep on poking fun at him anyway. Sam points a thumb over his shoulder and makes like he’s about to leave.

“I’m sorry, you want me to go call Steve so you can get all teary-eyed about the good old days when you boiled water on the stove and soap was a dime a bar? Because I sure as hell ain’t interested in your old man stories, Barnes.”

Bucky shakes his head, lets out a slow sigh. “I told you that one before, huh?” he says, smiling soft, and looks quietly pleased when Sam laughs aloud. Shutting off the faucet, Bucky swirls his hand through the bathwater to test the temperature and winds up with bubbles halfway up to his elbow. “Hey, you want a beer?” he asks in a total conversational U-turn, nodding to the corner of the bathroom where there’s a four-pack of bottles standing on an ice pack. “I got plenty. Can you hand me one over?”

Pulling the cap off a couple of bottles, Sam passes one to him. “You brought beer up to the bathroom to drink in your fancy-ass bubble bath,” he muses, less of a question and more of a begrudgingly impressed statement. He’s got to hand it to the guy, he’s got this relaxation thing _down_.

“Why the fuck not?” Bucky says with a self-satisfied smile, the rim of the bottle snagging against his bottom lip before he takes a long pull from it. Sam’s not even going to pretend he’s not looking at his mouth, the way his throat works when he swallows.

“Why the fuck not,” Sam murmurs in agreement. He holds his bottle out so Bucky can clink his own against it and then drinks plenty down himself. It’s got a good, strong taste with just the right amount of fizz, chilled enough that the glass is slick with condensation. Sam had approximately zero plans for tonight, but now that he’s here he can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be. “Hey, you okay with me sticking around?” he asks, just in case. “Can leave you to it, if you want.”

Bucky’s expression softens. “Nah,” he says, “you want to stay, be my guest. Unless you got more important stuff to be doing. This is – ” he gestures at the bubbles and the candles and the bathroom in general and takes a steadying breath, “ – I was just feeling kinda tense, I guess.”

Sam holds his gaze, inclines his head a little to give him an opening if he wants it, but Bucky shrugs with a small smile and turns to place his beer on the edge of the tub. He doesn’t elaborate further and Sam has no intention of pushing him to do so.

“Oh man, I did not think this through,” Bucky huffs with a breath of a laugh, examining the hair tie on his wrist like he’s only just remembered it’s there. He tugs it off with the help of his teeth and holds it out toward Sam. “You mind putting my hair up? It’s a pain in the ass when I only got the one hand to do it.”

Sam takes the tie wordlessly and steps up to Bucky where he’s still seated on the edge of the tub facing him. He combs his fingers through Bucky’s hair gently, teasing out any tangles as he pulls it up into a loose bun on top of his head.

Leaning into Sam’s hands, Bucky groans quietly when Sam’s fingernails rake lightly across his scalp. He looks up through his lashes – _Christ_ almighty – the exact same way he does when he’s sucking Sam off and Sam gathers his hair out of the way for him. Sam gives him a pointed look which Bucky blatantly ignores, chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip as though the both of them don’t know exactly what he’s doing. 

“Stop that,” Sam murmurs, corner of his mouth twitching up. “Unless you want to be giving a man ideas.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, all innocent eyes and a mouth made for sin. His lip is glossy and red-flushed where it’s been pressed between his teeth. “I got no clue what you’re talking about, babydoll.”

Sam narrows his eyes and twists the hair tie around a couple times to secure it. Cups Bucky’s jaw, fingers digging in a fraction too hard just how he likes it, thumb rasping over the hint of stubble there as he angles Bucky’s head back just to hear his breath hitch. “Sure you don’t,” he says firmly, fondly, releasing him.

Bucky blinks slow, eyes hazy even as his smirk turns sharp and pleased. Like he’s feeling the same lazy tug of want Sam is, warm and drowsy with arousal and in no hurry to do anything about it.

“You planning on getting in here with me?” Bucky asks, his tone suggesting he’s only half-serious but still down for considering it. “Pretty sure we could both fit if we bunk up _real_ nice and close.”

Appealing, definitely. Also optimistic; a two-man tub it is not.

“Oh, I’m just fine out here,” Sam tells him easily, picking up his beer again from where he’d left it on the sink. “But you should get on in before the water turns cold.”

 _Your loss_ , Bucky says with nothing more than a quirk of his lips and a raised eyebrow. Sam answers with an expression he’s hoping conveys _shut up and take your damn clothes off already_. It’s surprisingly effective; Bucky stands up, hooks his thumb and then elbow into the hem of his tank top and peels it off over his head in one sleek movement, gaze held steadfastly on Sam as he does so.

“Didn’t realise I was getting beer _and_ a show,” Sam says, looking his fill and taking his time about it. Bucky likes to show off, Sam likes to watch. It’s all good.

“Must be your lucky day, sweetheart.”

Sam slips a hand into his jeans, adjusts himself lazily as Bucky’s eyes hungrily follow the movement. He swallows another mouthful of beer and feels really goddamn good right now. “Must be.”

Bucky tugs his sweats down and steps out of them. He’s not hard but not all the way soft either, dick filled out a little like the easy back-and-forth of sexual banter is doing good things for him too. Sam’s mouth waters just looking at him, can’t even help it.

When he finally steps into the tub, Bucky sinks down into the water with a sigh so satisfied Sam can’t help but grin.

“Good?” Sam asks needlessly, sitting himself down on the rug with his back up against the side of the tub, drawing his knees up and getting comfortable.

“You know,” Bucky says, “I ain’t even got the words.”

They sit in contented silence for a while, finishing off their respective beers and basking in the knowledge they’ve got nowhere to be and nothing to do for the next couple days but take a well-deserved break. Bucky tops up the tub to keep it hot and Sam closes his eyes, tips his head back serenely. Inhales the sweet-scented steam that billows all around them and lets his thoughts fall blissfully quiet.

“So,” Bucky says eventually once he’s shut off the water, “are we gonna make out a little or do I gotta ask twice?” He punctuates the sentence by flicking bathwater at the back of Sam’s neck like an asshole.

“Hey man, I mean, you coulda asked nicer than _that_. What the hell,” Sam complains, rubbing at his neck with one hand.

When Sam turns to look at him Bucky is as unapologetic as ever, sitting up with his arm resting on the side of the tub while he waits for Sam to inevitably give him what he wants. Sam sighs long-sufferingly and gets up on his knees on the rug, and this probably isn’t going to stay comfortable for too long, but whatever.

He slides a hand around the back of Bucky’s neck, moves in close to bring their mouths together. Takes it nice and slow at first, an easy give and take, but Bucky parts his lips with a groan that rumbles right through his chest and it’s too much of a temptation for Sam not to turn it deeper, wetter, tasting him properly. Bucky coaxes Sam’s tongue into his mouth, sucks on the tip of it in a way that never fails to make Sam’s toes curl.

Leaning closer, Bucky’s hand winds up draped over the side of the tub, the tips of his fingers dripping all over Sam’s jeans.

“You’re getting me wet,” Sam mumbles against his mouth.

“Mm, I love it when I get your dick wet, baby,” Bucky says, voice gone low and breathy in a way that’s stupid hot every damn time. “You always taste so fucking good.”

“Now you _know_ that’s not even what I meant, Jesus,” Sam groans, because Bucky knows what the dirty talk does to him and yet here they are with Sam’s own weaknesses being used against him. “ _Fuck_ ,” Sam mutters after a pause, giving in and getting to his feet, peeling his t-shirt off over his head. “Unless you got any objections, I’m getting in there too.”

Bucky pulls his gaze down Sam’s body, and the way he distractedly tongues at the inside of his cheek is utterly obscene. “ _Definitely_ no objections,” he smirks as Sam shucks off the rest of his clothes.

It’s really not the most practical or comfortable place to fuck – there’s too much slick skin and not really enough room for two, the both of them laughing under their breath as Bucky helps him climb in – but Sam can just about fit a knee either side of Bucky’s thighs, and it’s totally worth it for the heaven that is the warm water washing over his tired muscles and the fact that he can finally get his mouth on Bucky properly.

Bucky’s collarbones are shiny-wet and inviting and Sam gives in to the urge to run his tongue over them. Bucky makes a throaty noise of approval when he does so and Sam takes it as encouragement to continue upward, nuzzles at his neck where he smells really damn good. Scrapes his teeth over the place where Bucky’s pulse races just to hear him pant a little, shivering full-body despite the warmth of the room.

“Why don’t you show me how you want it?” Sam says, hand splayed over Bucky’s chest where his heart pounds underneath. He curls his thumb to drag the nail bluntly over one of Bucky’s nipples, pinches it until he gasps. “Come on, put your hand on your dick, baby, that’s it.”

Bucky draws his hand away from where it rests on Sam’s hip and wraps his fingers around himself. He gives a few easy strokes, hand slipping wetly over the hard length of his cock as it visibly thickens and pulses hotly. Turns his wrist on each upstroke, catches the head in the hollow of his palm and _twists_.

“Like that, huh?” Sam murmurs when Bucky honest-to-god whimpers at the stimulation. Kisses him, just because, and swallows the soft sounds he’s making. “Look at you, so goddamn needy, fuck.”

“Oh _I’m_ needy?” Bucky laughs breathlessly, releasing his grip on himself and taking Sam in hand instead to prove a point. “ _I’m_ needy, he says. Lord almighty,” and he gives Sam a slow, squeezing pull from base to tip, looking unfairly smug when Sam’s hips push forward on reflex with a bitten-off groan.

“Alright, alright,” Sam says, amused; yeah, he’s desperate all right, dick hard as hell within the grip of Bucky’s talented fingers as Bucky jerks him off. “Go slow, don’t make me come yet,” he adds, voice breaking apart a little as Bucky traces along the slit with the soft tip of one finger.

Sam slides his hand up the length of Bucky’s cock and begins stroking him off just as Bucky had shown him how. Jesus but it’s so fucking _good_ , Bucky’s hand on his dick combined with the way he’s bringing Bucky off so slow and sweet he can feel every twitch, every reaction to Sam’s attention. Bucky lifts his chin, offering his mouth for a kiss, and Sam falls into it automatically, trails his fingers across Bucky’s abs to make him shiver.

“Fuck, how’d you do it, sweetheart?” Bucky murmurs when they break apart, his eyes ink-dark in the muted light of the bathroom. “So pretty all over, I can’t hardly stand it.”

The pad of his thumb finds the sensitive spot beneath the crown of Sam’s dick so he can rub, massaging gently, and _Christ_ Sam can feel it right down to his toes, fizzing in the tips of his fingers.

“What part of _don’t make me come_ did you not understand?” Sam teases. He feels like he’s coming apart at the seams, a little out of control in the best of ways.

Bucky smiles and doesn’t even pretend like he has any intention of quitting was he’s doing. “But you look so damn good when you’re getting close to coming for me,” he says, his knuckles brushing up against Sam’s hipbone with every slide of his fist. “How’m I supposed to resist, huh? When you’re on me, wantin’ it so bad.”

 _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Sam thinks. He can barely think straight at all through the heady rush of pleasure, swaying into Bucky and pressing their foreheads together, breathing the same damp air.

“This was _supposed_ to be about _you_ ,” Sam protests softly. “You said you were feeling tense, baby, you've got to let me take care of you properly.”

Bucky reacts to that more than Sam’s expecting, raising his fingers to Sam’s jaw with wide eyes and stroking his thumb over his cheek all tender. He tries to move his hand back down again but Sam captures it with his own, tangling their fingers together so he can draw Bucky’s arm around his waist instead where it’s less distracting. His head’s clearer without Bucky’s hand on his dick, driving him out of his damn mind, even if he misses it already.

“God, you’re so fucking _good_ Sam, Jesus,” Bucky sighs. “So goddamn good to me. You’re the best fucking thing, I swear.”

Sam kisses him, brief, and turns his attention back to Bucky’s cock. He quickens the movement of his hand, wanting to see him come apart. Some of Bucky’s hair has fallen loose and Sam tucks it behind Bucky’s ear, slides his fingers into Bucky’s hair at the nape of his neck and tugs a little to make him shudder and gasp, cock kicking wetly in Sam’s grip. Bucky presses his face to the curve of Sam’s neck, panting softly and god, he’s so close, Sam can feel it.

“Are you gonna let me take you to bed, baby?” Sam says. “I want to eat you out real nice and slow. Fuck you right after if that’s what you want. We’ll take our time, we’ve got all night.”

Bucky moans low in his throat and bites down gently into the muscle of Sam’s shoulder to save himself from getting louder, so fucking desperate and so goddamn hot that Sam’s right on edge too, employing a whole lot of willpower not to just press up close and rub off against Bucky’s hip. Bucky clutches at Sam’s thigh with a gasp and then he’s coming, finally, pulsing over Sam’s hand as Sam strokes him through it over and over.

Sam waits till he’s done, barely, and can’t wait another minute; jerks himself off rough and quick and presses their mouths together wet and panting. Follows Bucky right over the edge seconds later, come splashing up against Bucky’s wet-slicked abs and sliding down, and _damn_ is it a pretty sight. Dick still in hand, he can’t resist sliding the tip through it, catching and smearing slick and glossy across Bucky’s skin before it disappears.

Glancing down at himself, Bucky hums a satisfied sound and pulls Sam close, mouthing all gentle at his neck and placing kisses along his jaw as Sam leans into the side of the tub and quietly catches his breath.

“Is it acceptable,” Bucky asks eventually, sleepy and soft and tracing patterns over Sam’s ribs, “to have, like, a pre-sex nap? Can that be a thing? Let’s just go to bed for a while, huh. We’ll sleep a little, fuck afterward when we feel like it. Fuckin’ awesome.”

“Oh man,” Sam says with feeling, “that can _definitely_ be a thing,” and he reaches for the warmest and fluffiest-looking pair of towels on the rack and thinks _good_. _This is good_.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure self-indulgent nonsense but I was ridiculously stressed out a couple of weeks ago when I first started writing it and it was, in an odd way, wonderfully soothing. Hopefully it also makes for a relaxing, albeit smut-filled, short read :)


End file.
